


Threading the Needle

by Guanin



Series: Antipodal Shadows [12]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guanin/pseuds/Guanin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Oswald and Jim regroup, Maroni calls Oswald to the restaurant for a little chat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Threading the Needle

**Author's Note:**

> Another short chapter. It was meant to be longer, but I did some reshuffling and some stuff got cut out. I wanted to post something before Christmas, though. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it! Otherwise, happy Wednesday!

Harvey drove Jim to work while Oswald went back home. Jim worried about him traveling alone, but Oswald assured him that Maroni wasn’t so fickle as to kill him the next day before Oswald had a chance to grant him any benefits. Their apartments were probably still being watched, though, which was a problem. Maroni wasn’t going to stop keeping tabs on them anytime soon. He would be expecting some form of retaliation despite his threats. Precisely because of his threats. Since he would notice that neither of them went home last night, they had checked into a hotel before calling Harvey, roughing up the bed sheets in the room to make it look like they had slept there, then snuck out. Oswald would check them out before he got home. In case Maroni wondered where they spent the night, they had an alibi. 

That night, they would reunite at Harvey’s apartment and form a plan for bringing Maroni down. Or, at least, start one. There were too factors to take into account and too many unknowns, but they needed a plan of action. Sitting idle while waiting for the hammer to fall was not an option.

``````````  
Donovan lied inside Gabriel’s car trunk, a wide, red gash stretching across his throat.

“You did good, Gabe,” Oswald said, smiling at the bloody bent of Donovan’s nose. Jim had done that part. His sudden display of violence had been a welcome bright spot in a terrifying day. 

“You do believe that I had nothing to do with what Maroni did, right?” Gabriel said, standing uneasily by the car, so afraid of what Oswald might do.

“I believe that you know better than to cross me in the future. Maroni might have the upper hand for now, but that won’t last. He’s comfortable where he is. Comfortable people lose sight of the periphery. I won’t make that mistake again. But he will.”

“Won’t he figure that you’ll be coming after him?”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt. But I’ll make sure that he’s looking in the wrong direction.”

Oswald shut the trunk, the sharp slamming sound satisfying under his hand.

“Get rid of him,” he said. “And find out who in my organization is working for Maroni. He’ll have another mole apart from Donovan.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

He would double check Gabe’s work, making sure that there weren’t any divided loyalties in play, and hire some new men on his own, as well. He needed to strengthen his power base. The ground under his feet was too shaky right now. That would not do.

````````  
Jim called Oswald at lunchtime like they had agreed to. For hours, he'd been fighting the urge to call a little earlier, making do with short texts, but as soon as Harvey declared their morning shift over, Jim flipped his phone open and called Oswald. He put his coat on one handed, phone held firmly to his ear as it rang.

"Hi," Oswald answered. "How are you?"

"I'm alright." He followed Harvey out of the precinct on the way to their favorite hot dog vendor. "How are things on your end?"

"Nothing to worry about yet."

"Your man at the parking lot? Did he?"

Kill that guy?

"He did his part."

Jim honestly wasn't sure how he felt about that. A chilly drizzle fell on him as he stepped onto the sidewalk, swept up by a stiff breeze that blew it into his face, yet it was still not as cold as he felt inside.

"So you're sure he's loyal?"

"I can always tell when he's lying. I'm as sure as I'm willing to be." 

Jim wasn't terribly reassured. Right now, almost everyone felt like a potential threat.

"That's something, at least."

"Did you get that list of ADAs you wanted?"

"I did. I still need to get character references for most of them, though. All the names I recognize are dirty."

"You might not find a clean one."

"It's still worth a shot."

There was silence on the line. Jim was about to speak when Oswald said,

"You know, a dirty ADA may not necessarily be an impediment to our purposes."

A knot in Jim's gut tightened.

"I don't want you to buy one off."

"It's no different than anything else I do."

"I know. But we are working together on this. Some part of it has to get done my way."

"Of course. You're right."

"If it doesn't work, then we'll review options, but I don't want that to be the first step."

"I understand."

"Do you think I should ask Montoya and Allen about the ADAs? They're the only honest detectives I know, but they might wonder why I'm asking."

"Are you considering involving them?"

"Not without asking you. And I honestly don't know. What we have to do... They probably won’t agree."

_I don't agree._

"I say we avoid them for as long as we can. Montoya doesn't like you. And they were annoyingly persistent in arresting you."

Oswald seemed a little resentful. Jim smiled.

"They were trying to catch your murderer."

"A noble sentiment, but it wasn't about me. I was a lowly snitch. Snitches get iced all the time."

"Whereas I was with Montoya's ex. I don't think that's all of it, though. They genuinely want to uphold the law."

Making them precisely the kind of people he should be working with under normal circumstances. Which these were not.

"I wouldn't trust them," Oswald said. "Not with this. If they think you're going too far to my side, they might come after you again. It's too risky."

Upholding the law was not what Oswald and he would be doing, after all. This was a battle of survival. As much as possible, he would try to steer toward what he believed in, but he didn’t hold out much hope of being successful. If he were in this alone, the choice would be easy. But not with Oswald's life on the line.

"Okay," Jim said. "You're probably right. I'll find out about the ADAs some other way."

“I could take a look at the list. Tell you who I know to be working with Falcone.”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

Harvey was holding Jim's hot dog out to him. Jim fished in his pocket for some money, paid the vendor, then took his food.

"Listen," he told Oswald. "I'm going to have to let you go. I have to eat."

"Okay. Call me when you get off work so I can come over."

"Okay, I will. Bye."

"Bye."

"How's he doing?" Harvey asked.

"He's alright for now. He's trying to determine who's loyal to him."

"A tough job, that. Me, I wouldn't trust any of those guys."

"Me, neither. But he'll be more careful this time."

Jim stared at his hot dog, a sick feeling crawling around in his stomach. If he put food in his mouth, his esophagus might heave it back up despite his hunger. Still, he had to eat. This was no time to let his strength slide.

`````````  
“Don Maroni wishes to see you,” the caller had said, summoning Oswald back to the restaurant.

The question of when he would next be forced to breathe the same air as Maroni had been skulking at the forefront of his mind, along with a bevy of violent fantasies that involved lots of stabbing and gushing blood. Of course, he couldn’t enact any of those right now. It was too soon to make an attempt on Maroni’s life, even a covert one. Oswald’s position wasn’t secure enough to take out the second most powerful mobster in the city without suffering swift retribution. Maroni knew that. This summons was a test of obedience, one which Oswald submitted himself to immediately. Keeping Maroni happy was critical at this stage, so he entered the restaurant with only two of his bodyguards, both standing back as Oswald approached the table that Maroni was sitting at, giving the appearance that they were only there as a formality. Maroni stood up when he saw him, one of his faux friendly smiles on his face. 

“Penguin,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from his. “Come join me.”

Speaking as if he hadn’t tortured Oswald yesterday. How infuriating.

“Thank you, sir,” Oswald said, smiling affably out of pure survival instinct as he took a seat.

Maroni’s bodyguard presence was less marked than the day before. Three men relaxed on tables like Oswald’s men were doing, keeping an eye on them only out of their peripheral vision. The table was set, complete with twin glasses of red wine, but there was no food yet. 

“Have you eaten?” Maroni asked.

“I have not, sir.”

“Good. I thought that we could have an early dinner.”

Maroni raised his hand, gesturing at a waiter near the kitchen doors. Neither of them spoke as they were brought their plates. Oswald half expected to be served fish as a joke on his name or lobster to remind him of the first time that he had sat at Maroni’s table, Maroni’s threat to jam a claw down his throat if he spoke out of turn again still fresh in his mind, but the waiter brought them both porterhouses. Equal standing at the table. Equal meals. Maroni was luring him into a trap.

“I figure,” Maroni said, “that you’d probably like to take that knife there and stab me with it.”

He picked up his own knife and fork and sliced off a piece of his steak.

“No, Don Maroni.” Oswald shook his head vigorously. “I would never--”

Maroni silenced him with a raised hand.

“Now, Oswald. There’s no need to play coy. Were I in your shoes, I would be contemplating precisely that.”

Fuck. How the hell was he supposed to reply to that?

“I am only thinking of Jim’s and my survival, sir.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

Fucking mind games.

“I’m not sure what it is you wish me to say.”

“I am only trying to get a sense of how you’re feeling. You can be honest with me, Penguin. You should be, always. Don’t worry. You won’t get in trouble.”

“I don’t like to be called Penguin, sir.”

An amused smirk tugged at Maroni’s face.

“Yes, you did tell me that. My apologies.”

Oswald cut into his own steak, going through the motions, his hands tense on the utensils.

“But you were right. It is a good name. I could use it to my advantage.”

“That you could. I wouldn’t give you bad advice.”

“Of course not. You have excellent judgment, sir. If you are permitting me to be honest, I do respect you. I’m sorry that what we discussed yesterday did not reflect that, but it is the truth.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I only hope that you respect me as your boss and not your enemy. Not that I would blame you for thinking of me as the latter after yesterday. But that would be disadvantageous to both. Let me remind you, you betrayed me. It is my right to kill you. Just like you killed the man who snitched on you for me.”

Oswald’s hand tightened on the knife he was using. He shoved the piece of meat in his mouth down his throat, ignoring the nausea in his stomach urging him to throw it back up.

“I’m not contesting that, sir.”

“But I didn’t. Just like I wouldn’t give you up to Falcone. Turns out that he didn’t want you back, anyway, but let’s set that aside for now. I protected you. Because I like you. You’re smart. And you’re resourceful. I have no doubt that you could become a powerful presence in Gotham. I recognized that early on. And I have been a good friend to you, have I not?”

“Yes, Don Maroni, you have. I am very grateful for the courtesy that you have shown me.”

“You’re going to need me to stay your friend if you want to grow in this town. You understand? If you move against me, well. That finish line? You're never even going to see the end of it.”

“I understand, sir.”

“You owe me. You remember that.”

“I do. I will not forget my debt to you, I promise.”

_Especially the debt I owe you for threatening Jim’s life._

“I’ll tell you what. As a token of good faith, I’ll recall the watch that I have over your and Gordon’s apartments.”

“Thank you, sir.”

If it was true. Although Maroni would be looking to use more subtle means of surveillance, ones that Oswald wasn’t already aware of.

“I heard that you and Jim didn’t go home last night. I would hate to drive you two from your homes.”

“I really appreciate it. We value our privacy.”

“Of course. And no one will hear about your relationship from me. Many wouldn’t understand. The phrase “to be in bed with the cops” isn’t intended to be taken literally.”

“That’s right. I just couldn’t help myself.”

Maroni snorted.

“Eat your steak. You’ve hardly touched it.”

Oswald had only managed to swallow a few bites.

“I’m sorry about that, sir,” Oswald said, smiling like they were friends again. “Nerves.”

“No need to apologize. And I think that you should call me Sal again. No one apart from us and Jim knows what happened between us and that’s how it will stay. It would seem odd if you don’t call me by my first name anymore. Besides, I don’t want any more animosity between us.”

Until the instant that Oswald ceased being useful. Then the pleasant mask would fall away and he and Jim would get a knife in the ribs.

“Of course. You’re right, Sal, as always.”

Oswald took another bite of his steak, not tasting it at all.

````````  
When Oswald arrived at Harvey’s apartment, Jim welcomed him with a long kiss, which Oswald returned avidly, clinging to Jim like he had been yearning to do all day, holding him tightly. 

“I’m happy to see you,” Jim said, his face still so close that his loving eyes were all Oswald could see.

“I can tell.” Oswald grinned. “I’m alive. We have survived another day.”

“Yeah.” Jim’s expression sobered. “I wish it wasn’t like this. Worrying if we’re going to be alive by the end of the day. I’ve lived like that. I never wanted to go back to it.”

Oswald could not be sorrier about that. But Jim didn’t want him to apologize any more than he already had. 

“It won’t last forever,” he said, cupping the side of Jim’s neck. “We just have to endure for a little longer. We will win the day.”

Jim’s face steeled with that fierce determination that always drove a thrill of delight up Oswald’s spine.

“That we will,” Jim said, kissing him again.

“I was going to wait for you guys before I ordered,” Bullock said when they entered the kitchen, pinning a takeout menu on the side of the fridge with a magnet. “But I’m hungry and you guys were taking forever with your make out session, so I ordered for you.”

Jim looked like he was suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

“That’s fine,” Jim said. “Let’s get to the matter at hand, shall we?”

“Right,” Bullock said, leading them into the living room. “The grand plan, otherwise known as suicide by mafia.”

These were the times when Oswald dearly wished that Jim would let him get away with punching the man. 

“Suicide is not part of the plan,” Oswald said, trying, unsuccessfully, to tone down the condescension in his voice.

“It kinda feels like it is. So.” Bullock plopped down on the easy chair. “How the hell are we going to do this?”


End file.
